Mistakes
by Doom Squirrel
Summary: Sometimes you make such a terrible mistake, all you can do is go back to the beginning and try again. And sometimes not even that will help. Robin is in Gotham, the Titans are without a leader, and everything is falling apart. Robin/Starfire eventually.
1. What Cannot Be Undone

So… Writing a teen titans fanfics. Boy, it's been a while since I had a plotful story for this fandom.

Lots of warnings apply for this story, including, but not limited to: hurt/comfort, gay pairings, straight pairings, multiple pairings for one character, implied rape, and Slade being the evil bastard we all know he is.

AU from Apprentice, Part 2.

* * *

It's a long trip from Jump City to Gotham, especially on a motorcycle (not the R-cycle, probably he'll never ride it again), but Robin makes the trip in record time.

Long stretches of open road don't require much attention, even pushing 160 mph, but he's more attentive than he's ever been, because he can't, won't, can't, won't, _can't_ think about what he's doing or why.

"_If the titans are so distracting, maybe I should just get rid of them."_

A mistake. He's made them before, but this one is permanent. Unfixable. But it was one mistake or another, and it takes a really talented person to manage to make _both_ of them.

Hell of a talent.

So now he's running away, running _home_, to the one place that'll always be home – maybe not for Robin any longer, but for…

He breaks into a clothing store in Ohio – it's three in the morning and he doesn't have the time to find a place that's open, and it's not stealing, because he leaves the money for the clothes behind – he's not stealing, he's not breaking the rules again, he's not...

"_You'll come to enjoy the thrill_."

Jeans, a sweatshirt, a backpack, and he sheds Robin. He wants to throw the suit away, want to shred it, wants to get rid of it because he doesn't deserve to wear it, not anymore, probably never again. Doesn't. He treats the suit with a reverence he's never bothered with before, folding it and tucking it neatly in the backpack.

He buys gas with cash this time, but it's just a gesture. Batman probably already knows he's coming, noticed his funds being accessed in almost a straight line from Jump city.

Don't think about him. Don't think about anything. Just get back on the bike and go. Still got about 400 miles to go.

He sticks to the speed limit now. In civvies, a cop might actually pull him over – would certainly, for going to speed he was. They wouldn't stop Robin. If Robin's going somewhere that fast, it's important. They would clear the way for him. Dick Grayson gets no such privileges.

He makes it to Gotham at about two in the afternoon – he stopped for a short nap on the way because even Robins need to sleep sometimes – even bats.

He leaves the motorcycle behind, walks three blocks, and hails a taxi. The driver tries to make small talk ("You look like hell, kid. What's wrong?") but Dick is steadfastly quiet, and the driver eventually takes the hint and shuts up.

The gates of Wayne manor are as intimidating as ever, but Dick feels like a weight is being lifted from his shoulders when he stands in front of them.

He presses the buzzer, and the crisp, British voice saying "yes?" makes him smile.

"Alfred," he says quietly, "It's me. Let me in?"

The gate slides open without a sound, and Dick walks in, feeling like…

Like a sinner about to beg forgiveness from…

He shakes it off, furiously.

Alfred retains his stiff upper lip; the only things that reveal how shocked he is are that he comes outside to greet him, and an arched eyebrow, "Master Dick, to what do we owe this surprise?"

A million explanations, and he loves Alfred and probably owes him an explanation, but he needs to tell Bruce first.

"I… I need to see Bruce," and his voice comes out so horribly small and lost-sounding that he almost winces at it. Almost. Bruce taught him better than _that,_ at least. And no thinking about what Bruce taught him because he completely disregarded the most important thing of all the things he'd been taught. (But he was justified. Wasn't he justified? It was wrong, but he'd had no choice! No choice.)

"_You belong to me now."_

Alfred doesn't ask, but then again, he can probably guess. Dick's always worn his heart on his sleeve, no matter how much Robin can keep hidden. Alfred raises an eyebrow (his signature expression), and steps aside to let Dick in.

"Master Bruce is downstairs at the moment, I believe."

They're on the ground floor, and there's no basement under this wing of the house. Dick recognizes exactly what Alfred means.

"Thank you."

He walks inside hesitantly – can Wayne manor still be home after… after… what he did?

Does he have the right to call this place home now that he is…

He is…

He is a murderer.

He shuts his eyes, but that only makes the thought clearer, so he opens them again and toes off his shoes by the door. The rug feels familiar and comforting under his feet, and he walks with only a little hesitation to the grandfather clock that hides the entrance to the Cave.

The Batcave is cold, as usual, and when he walks in to see Bruce sitting at the console, he can almost feel like he never left. Like Bruce is about to say suit up, he's got a lead on the Joker or Penguin or Catwoman. (Whichever one. Pick your poison.)

"I was wondering when you'd get here," Bruce says as he approaches. He doesn't even need to look at Dick to know it's him, "I was expecting you sometime last night."

"I stopped for some sleep," Dick answers, "I mean, not everyone can do without it like you can."

The grin doesn't come easily, and the teasing is strained. He didn't exactly leave on good terms and now he's coming back under terrible circumstances, and he can't sweep it under the rug and pretend nothing happened, even though everything seems so achingly familiar.

"Your friends called me last night," Bruce says, finally turning from the terminal, "Apparently it took them all this time to break the encryption on your files."

There's a subtle compliment there, and where Dick might have once preened from it, now he feels like he doesn't deserve it.

"Dick," Batman says, "What happened?"

Dick perches on a convenient stalagmite and wraps his arms around his knees, "You've talked to them, you already know."

"I have conflicting opinions from four worried and confused teenagers," Batman says, "I can make an educated guess, but –" his voice softens back to Bruce "- I'd like to know from you what really happened."

Oh, god. Dick whimpers a little and hides his face in his arms. How can he admit what he's done? He came here hoping for… something, he's not sure what (he knows exactly what but he's too scared to name it), but actually telling Bruce what he did is just…

"Oh, god," he mutters, the weight of what happened pressing on him. He's run all this way, but he can't run any farther and home can't support this burden.

"Dick," Bruce says from directly in front of him. How he crossed the intervening space without Dick noticing is a mystery (well, not really, he's Batman. Batman can do these things).

Dick looks up at Bruce, and from this seat, he feels like he's eleven again, just discovering this man's amazing secret and so, so awed by him. He reaches up and hugs Bruce like he really _is_ eleven again, and Bruce hugs him back awkwardly (he's never been very good at giving hugs).

"Oh, god, it was a mistake I didn't mean to I swear I never would have I didn't –" he babbles helplessly, because he needs reassurance, he needs Bruce to forgive him even before he can admit his sins, "I never wanted to I couldn't do anything to stop him –"

"Robin," Bruce says, and it's quiet, reassuring but at the same time it's not a voice to be disobeyed, "Tell me what happened."

Dick shivers once, twice, and then gets himself under control. Robin is always controlled, just like the man who trained him, and he can force himself to be Robin for long enough to explain, because right now Dick is falling apart completely.

The words come tumbling out of his mouth all at once, because if he stops, if he lets Robin slip away for even a moment, he won't get his control back, and he has to confess, he has to tell Bruce what happened.

He tells Bruce about Slade's plot, the probes that would kill his friends from the inside out, being forced to steal, hoping waiting for a way to escape, how they discovered what had happened and came charging in to his rescue (loyal, brave idiots, and he loved them so much, how could he let them be hurt?) and how Slade had hurt them again, and how Robin could do nothing, nothing.

_He fought furiously, but Slade was simply _better_ than him, faster, smarter, more experienced. Robin was panicking, because his friends were unable to do anything, hurting and running out of time and he had no more time but there was nothing he could do because Slade was anticipating his every move and he couldn't even land a hit._

_There was something he could do. Slade wouldn't anticipate it, because Robin was a hero and heroes don't do what Robin did. He slammed his palm up into Slade's chin and twisted, and he heardfelt bone crack and Slade slumped to the floor, surprise in his one blue eye._

_Dead._

_Dead. Robin had killed him._

Bruce doesn't show any surprise when Dick confesses, but then again, when has the Batman ever been surprised?

"I didn't mean to kill him, I just… I had to do something and there was nothing I could do. I…"

Bruce is silent, and Dick…

…breaks.

Holds Bruce tightly, and cries.


	2. To Seek and Find

This chapter was fun to write. Getting inside Starfire's head was a challenge, because there's a a lot more to her than you see in the show.

Starfire is so cute. I would totally be her BFF.

* * *

Starfire didn't understand why the other Titans were so horrified by the idea of killing. She had killed many people in her life. Tamaran had been at war since she was very young, and as one of its princesses, she was expected to go into battle herself.

She did not _like_ killing – no one should take pleasure in the snuffing out of a life, but there was nothing wrong with doing it when it was necessary. When it is your life or theirs, then they must be the one to die. When it is family or friends or them, then they _must_ die. To not kill and let your friends die would be the worst thing anyone could do.

Robin had saved them all, so why did Cyborg and Beast Boy think he did wrong? Why was Raven locked in her room, meditating like she was afraid to leave? Why did Robin run away?

"_Robin, what did you do?"_

"_I-I…"_

_He fled._

It had taken them nearly a week to contact Batman. He had not seen Robin, he said, but Starfire had suspected there was more he hadn't said. She hadn't pushed it because the others were so intimidated by him (she didn't understand how they could be – he was like Robin, just older and a little fiercer).

Now Batman was contacting them.

"Robin is here," Batman said flatly, "He arrived a few hours ago. I'm sure you'll be relieved to hear that."

Starfire felt the weight of worry that had kept her earthbound for the past week lift, and she floated up to the screen, "Oh, I am so glad! He is undamaged?"

"Only in some respects," Batman said. Starfire frowned, and dropped down to the floor again.

"May we speak to him?" she asked.

Batman paused for a long while, and then said, "No."

Starfire frowned again, "Why not? I merely wish to speak to him and see that he is alright. We do not seek to judge him for what happened, merely to understand."

"He won't speak to you."

Starfire growled a little, and she could feel the power start to build up behind her eyes, "Let him be stubborn if he wishes – he clearly learned it from you."

Beast Boy squeaked behind her, "Star! Don't say that!"

Starfire ignored him. Beast Boy could be frightened if he wished, but Batman was only human, and she was not afraid of him.

"Fine. If he will not speak to us, then tell him that we do not blame him for what happened, and we only wish to know that he is undamaged. If he does not respond, then I will be _most_ upset."

There was something like a hint of a smile on Batman's face when he replied, "I'll let him know."

The line went dead. Starfire pursed her lips, turned on her heel and headed for her room. Cyborg followed, looking concerned.

"Star, why did you say that?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"That we don't blame him. He _killed_ him. Snapped his neck," Cyborg shivered, "I know that he did it to save us but you can't say you don't blame him when he _murdered_ a man. It's not exactly like he's being wrongfully accused here."

Starfire whirled on him angrily, "Robin saved all of our lives! He did what was necessary. Maybe you do not like the result, but he is our friend and I will not turn my back on him for it!"

"I didn't say that I was turning my back on him, but – "

"Then you will help me pack."

"Pack? Why?"

"I am going to Gotham City, and I will not return until I have seen Robin."

She left Cyborg standing in the hall looking shocked. She reached the sanctuary of her room and stopped, looking around and considering. What would she need to bring? How long would this take? Would she even be able to find Robin? It was one thing to state her intention so boldly, but quite another to actually plan it.

She'd never been all that good at planning. Her parents and Galfore had planned everything for her back on Tamaran, Robin planned for the Titans (she couldn't think that in the past tense). She could think on the fly, of course, but overall she did not plan very well.

After a halfhearted effort to gather some clothing, she sat down on her bed with a sigh, wrapped her arms around her knees, and missed Robin. She didn't know what to do. If it were Tamaran they were on, this would not have torn them apart like this.

She sat there and felt sorry, for Robin, for her team, and most especially for herself. She had nothing on earth other than her friends and the team, and she couldn't return to her planet – if she did, she would risk capture by the Gordanians again. She had escaped that horrible fate once and was not optimistic enough to believe she could do it a second time.

If there were no Robin, and no Titans, then what would become of her? She had no answer, and she wished she could cry, but instead she just felt cold and heavy and scared.

There was a knock on the door. It was very heavy sounding, so it must have been Cyborg. She got up and answered it. He looked very awkward and unsure.

"Star? When you're ready to go, I've got the car ready. It won't get you there as fast, but you won't have to go alone," he put a hand on her shoulder, "Look, I may not have this stuff all sorted out in my head yet, but you're my friend and I'll help you if I can."

"Thank you," Starfire hugged him tightly and he jumps in surprise. It was easier to hug Cyborg than her other human friends – he didn't squish.

He helped her grab a few changes of clothes and they knocked on Raven's door to let her know what they were going to do. She didn't want to come.

Neither did Beast Boy. He looked panicked at the mere suggestion when they found him in the gym.

Cyborg didn't really want to come either, she could tell, but she was grateful that he was.

They left.

The drive took three days, and they hardly spoke. The worst part was that conceivably, the trip could have been fun under different circumstances. There was much to see, and she was quite curious about all of the advertisements she saw on the side of the road. Maybe they would stop at a few on the way back.

Robin would surely be with them by then.

"Have you thought about how you're going to find him?" Cyborg asked when they reached the outskirts of Gotham, "His communicator is back at the tower, and his locator is offline still."

"I have not," Starfire said, feeling a weight settling on her again. She shook it off and remembered something her mother once said, "I will manage, with perseverance and faith."

"I doubt that any god is going to get involved with this," Cyborg muttered. She didn't see where religion came into it, but she didn't ask for clarification.

"Will you help me look for him?" she asked.

Cyborg looked pained, "I can't."

"Why not? You've had three days with nothing to do but think, isn't that _enough_ time?" She demanded, knowing that she was being childish, "Robin did nothing wrong!"

"Maybe not to you, but to me, he did!" Cyborg yelled back, "He killed someone! End of story. Maybe that doesn't matter to you, but it does to me and I have to deal with that!"

"Robin is your friend, too! He killed Slade to save our lives and now you act like he is not your friend!"

"I didn't _say_ he's not my friend anymore. But now that I know he can kill someone if he's pushed to it, that makes him – "

"_He is the same person that he was before!_" Starfire bellowed, so angry that she felt like she was about to cry.

"It makes him different to me," Cyborg said quietly, looking away from her, "And I have to deal with that."

Starfire looked away, wanting to cry. She wanted to drag Slade back into the world of the living and kill him again for tearing her friends – her family – apart like this.

"I'm going to look for him. I will contact you later."

"Yeah, I… good luck," Cyborg said.

"I will manage," she replied.

But two hours later, she hadn't seen even the edge of a cape and was wondering what to do. She'd heard that Batman didn't tend to like other heroes in his city, but breaking up two attempted muggings only got her the thanks of the people she helped. No sign of anyone else.

She wanted to give up. She was tired physically and emotionally, and this was such a poorly planned expedition that Galfore would be ashamed of her. But faith manages. Perseverance manages. Giving up would only make the situation worse.

She wished Robin were here to help her, which was such a funny thought that she had to laugh. Robin to help her find Robin.

She floated down to the nearest roof to take a seat when she noticed someone there. Not many people tended to hang around on rooftops in the middle of the night, so she adjusted her course and flew over.

"Hello," she said, and the boy – he was very young, maybe eleven – jumped, dropping his bag, "What are you doing out here so late?"

"It's not a school night!" he blurted, looking very much like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't be.

"I would not know. But shouldn't you be at home?" she asked. She couldn't imagine that his parents weren't worried, especially considering how protective Earth people are of their children. But then again, humans are much more fragile than Tamaraneans.

"… I was looking for Batman," the boy said in a small voice.

"Really? What is the problem?"

"I don't have a problem," the boy said quickly, looking nervous, "I just… Batman's my favorite. He's been around here the past few nights."

"Oh," Starfire smiled. She'd had plenty of people in Jump City keeping watch for her and the other Titans. It was a perk of being a hero, that people liked you so much that just seeing you brightened their day.

"It is alright," she said with a warm smile, "But it is very late. You should go home."

"Okay," the boy replied in a small voice. He picked up his things and headed for the door to the stairs. It must have been harder to be a fan in Gotham City, Starfire guessed, given that Batman was mostly nocturnal.

She considered. The boy had picked a good spot. The building was the tallest one for a couple of blocks and it would probably be easy to see if Batman was around. She kept an eye out and –

_There_. The breeze was making something move, and with a start, she realized that it was Robin's cape.

She few over, joy bubbling up so far inside her that she had to work to fly straight.

"Robin!"

He looked at her, and the look brought her up short. She stopped just before reaching the rooftop.

"Robin…"

His face was completely blank. Not even the blankness of him trying to keep something from her, but the blankness of someone who had stared into emptiness one too many times. Starfire knew a few soldiers who looked like that.

"I have been looking for you for hours," she said.

Robin said nothing.

"I do not blame you for what happened," she said, "I know that you only did what had to be done. I would have done the same in your place."

Robin still said nothing. Starfire knew he was listening, because he was looking right at her, blank and cold.

"I only wish to know that you are undamaged, and when you will be coming home," she extended her hand, "I have missed you. We have not been… together in your absence."

Robin took a step back.

"Robin," she said, "please… come home."

"Starfire, I…" there was emotion in his face now, and it was an overwhelming mixture of pain and guilt.

"Robin," the voice came from behind him.

She looked beyond him and – _oh_. That's why so many people were frightened of Batman. Even though she knew he was just a human and she could break his neck with one hand, she had never seen a more intimidating figure.

Robin turned to look at him, and Starfire couldn't see his face as he said, "Yes?"

"Maroni's people are moving to the docks. Get down there and keep an eye on them."

Robin nodded once, and leapt off the roof. Starfire caught a glimpse of his face, and it was blank and controlled again. Her eyes snapped back to Batman. Now she wasn't intimidated, just angry.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded.

"You should leave," Batman said, "Robin will return to the Titans when he's ready."

"He will not _be_ ready if he does not know that we want him back!"

"This isn't going to help him," Batman looked to where Robin could be seen still a few roofs over, although the distance was rapidly increasing, "I know your intentions are good, but he needs to recover from this on his own."

"In my experience, there are very few problems where having help from someone else hinders their being resolved."

Batman was silent, but there was a different tone to it somehow. She had made contact with a nerve, she could tell.

"Leave Gotham," Batman said, "I don't want you in my city."

She fired a starbolt at him, but it was barely a tenth of her power and she aimed to miss. There was making it clear that she was offended, and then there was being stupid.

"_Varblernelk!_" she yelled, because the insult was the first thing that popped into her mind, "Your city or not, you have no right to speak to me that way!"

Batman didn't even flinch, "You can't help him right now. Leave."

She drifted away, angry still, "Maybe I cannot help him, but if you hurt him any worse…"

"I won't," Batman said, although he seemed unsure for a moment. But perhaps she just imagined it, because it was gone so quickly.

"If you do, I will not miss next time," she let a starbolt glow on her fist, "And you will receive a full powered one. I'm sure Robin has taken notes on just how powerful that is. Ask him."

Batman smirked like Robin did when he was doing well in a difficult fight, "I will."

Starfire flew away, not letting the starbolts fade until she was sure that she was out of sight. That could have gone much better, but Batman had been so _rude_ and Robin had been so blank, like he was just an empty shell that Robin had once inhabited.

She found Cyborg and the car and got in, quietly. He looked over at her, seeming concerned even despite the fact that they had fought earlier.

"Are you okay?"

"No," she replied, feeling like she was about to cry, "I am not. May we please go home now?"

Cyborg started the car.


	3. It Can Only Get Worse

Chapter three. In which I break Robin a bit more before fixing him. This is definitely more on the hurt end of the hurt/comfort. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. To the person who pointed out that Batman is being a jerk: you're right. Hopefully this chapter will help to explain why he's being a jerk.

Anyways. Read, enjoy, and remember that reviews feed my muse.

* * *

Bruce wasn't exactly sure what to about the current situation. He knew that Dick's teammate meant well when she came, but ever since seeing the alien girl Dick had become even more quiet and closed off. It had been a month since the… incident… and he still moved around in a cloud. Mechanical, almost.

Robin was still as effective as he had ever been – better, actually, he'd learned a lot since he left – but the joy he used to have was gone. No smile as he leapt off the roof, no quip as he kicked a drug dealer in the throat, no laughter when Batgirl made a horrible pun.

Bruce was getting more of the story in bits and pieces, many of which came after Dick woke up screaming from his nightmares. He had heard of Slade peripherally, but the man had never come to his direct attention. He wished he'd paid more attention to what had been happening in Jump City, but he had decided not to interfere, to give Dick his freedom.

He was impressed, actually. Completely disgusted, but impressed nonetheless. Slade had broken down Robin's defenses so expertly – the fact he was a wreck now was less about the end and more about everything that had come before it. It was masterful manipulation.

He should have paid more attention. He should have found out as much as he could about every villain in Jump City so that he could have prepared. Should have been involved so that when Slade pulled his gambit, Batman could have done something. If he had known it would turn out like this, he would've called in a favor from Superman.

'Should have's do no good. The past was cemented and unchangeable. It was only the future that he could do anything about.

They were working, but Bruce – Batman – was having a hard time focusing. There was a new player in town, strictly small-time, but he covered his tracks well and it required research, not to mention updating their files. Information was everything in this job.

The third time he saw Robin yawning a bit as he entered more information into the computer, he said, "Dick, go to bed. I can finish this."

He should have argued – that would have been usual, but instead he looked at Bruce, nodded and got to his feet, "Okay. Goodnight."

Bruce sighed a bit when Dick disappeared upstairs, and continued his work alone. He was worried. Dick was so closed off and blank, and it was beginning to interfere with Batman's work. It wasn't Dick's fault exactly, but… Usually, he could find a way to fix any problem, but this was… this was beyond him. He shook his head and focused on the filing.

An hour later, he was heading up to bed himself, because even Batman had to sleep sometimes. The last thing anyone needed was a superhero that hallucinated due to lack of REM sleep.

Dick was in his bed. He'd curled in on himself, a small lump under the blankets. His face wasn't visible, but the pattern of his breathing suggested that he was still awake.

"Dick?" Bruce asked.

"I can't sleep," Dick said, turning over to look at him, "I thought this would help."

Well, it wouldn't be the first time Dick had climbed into bed with him because of a nightmare – though of course the last time he was only twelve.

"Fine," he said, picking up the blankets and sliding in next to Dick, "Just don't kick, okay?"

Bruce settled into bed and Dick cuddled up, wrapping his arm around Bruce's chest and holding tightly. Bruce sighed and patted Dick's shoulder. He wasn't very good at comforting people, but he was trying.

"It's okay," he said.

Dick looked up at him, blue eyes wide and full of pain, "No… it's not."

"You're right," Bruce admited, "But it will get better. I promise. I'm going to do what I can to help you."

He expected a hug or some other similar response. He was not expecting to be kissed. Very intensely. Dick clearly had no experience, but he had gotten his tongue inside Bruce's mouth and his hand was moving down Bruce's chest in an uncertain yet determined way.

Bruce got his hands on Dick's shoulders and pushes him away, "What are you doing?"

"I want to," Dick replied, twisting loose of Bruce's hold, "everyone already thinks we're having sex, why not let it be true?"

"Dick, you're… you're _fifteen_," there were better arguments, but Bruce had a hard time thinking of any when he'd been so completely caught off guard.

"I'm old enough to be your partner. I'm old enough to help save the world, and get shot at by the mafia and gangs and thugs every night. You can't say I'm not mature enough to know what I want. I love you. And you love me, right?" Dick ran a hand up Bruce's arm, stroking his bicep.

Bruce shook it off, unnerved, "Of course I do, but that doesn't mean that I –"

"We love each other, so that means this was okay," Dick tried to kiss Bruce again, but Bruce avoided it this time, now that he knew it was coming.

"It is absolutely _not_ okay," he said, casting around for reasons that might actually get through to Dick in his current mental state. "You're fifteen years old. I'm your legal guardian. You've been in a daze for the past month, you aren't thinking clearly. This isn't going to make anything better."

Only someone without any moral compass whatsoever would have had sex with Dick at that moment. Bruce wasn't always the best at knowing what to do for people, but even he had more sense than that.

"Yes it will," Dick said, sounding a bit frantic, "It'll be better because you love me and it'll be like doing it over and doing it right and I want you to –"

Something in his words was worrying Bruce. There was more here than he first thought. "Dick," he said, using the command voice, "Calm down. Get your thoughts together."

Dick stopped talking abruptly, takes several short, gasping breaths, as though to stave off tears. "It should have been you!" he said loudly, "It should've been you, because you aren't trying to control me or mess with my mind, I love you and if you had done it it would've been okay."

Realization began to dawn in Bruce's mind – slow, cold tendrils of it, adding up to only one conclusion.

"Dick. What did he do to you?"

Dick shuddered, shaking with the memory, "I couldn't… I had to – if I hadn't done what he said he would've killed them and then done it anyway. I didn't want him to touch me, but my body wouldn't listen to me and oh god I can still feel his hands on my skin. That's why – why I need you to. It would be like doing it over and then it'd be okay."

Bruce wiped the tears off Dick's cheek. He was almost sure of what happened, but he had to ask – had to get confirmation. "He raped you, didn't he?"

Dick flinched, but nodded an affirmative.

"God," Bruce said softly, torn between wanting to hug him and worrying that doing so might set something off. Dick was not capable of separating what he needed from what he thought he wanted right now.

"He did it to control me – to break me. If it were you, it would've been because you love me. He did it to hurt me."

Bruce squeezed his shoulder. "Having sex with me is not going to make that any less true. It doesn't… it can't make it any better."

Dick was obviously trying to pull himself together. He scooted closer, invading Bruce's space in a way that wouldn't have bothered him before this, "It won't change that, but it'll help. Because I'll be in control this time."

Bruce could see the logic in that – on a certain level, it made perfect sense – but he knew better. "It would only hurt you more, Dick. And I won't do that to you. Healing doesn't work by compounding ills."

"It'll be catharsis," Dick tried to kiss him again. Bruce moved away again, although he was about to run out of bed to back up in.

"It's not that simple," Bruce said, holding Dick at arm's length again, "If you were in your right mind you'd understand how harmful this could be."

"If I was in my right mind I wouldn't need this at all!" Dick yelled, "Because for me to be in my right mind I would have to have not been _raped_, not _killed_ someone and not –" he squeezes his eyes shut, "oh god, I can still feel it. I can still feel his hands on me, and I can still feel his neck snapping. Every time I shut my eyes I see him falling I –"

He choked on a sob.

Bruce reached out and pulled Dick into a tight hug, which had the added benefit of keeping him still and unable to grope him. Dick was so small, so young, how could anyone have done this to him? Slade was lucky he was already dead – Batman didn't kill. He would just make Slade wish that he did.

"Shh…" he murmured, "It'll be alright. It will get better."

"I love you," Dick said, and he sounded so unnervingly young, "please…"

"Go to sleep," Bruce said softly, "Just… sleep. I'll be here."

He had nothing else to do, except perhaps go down to the cave and take out some aggression on the punching bags.

There was nothing he could do. Slade was already dead.

And Batman never saw this coming.


End file.
